


MotherTruckers

by KinoKahn



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M, Truckers!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinoKahn/pseuds/KinoKahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in Alaska is difficult for recent college graduate Shion, especially considering his degree's emphasis in... plants. But when he stumbles into a job as an ice road trucker and finds himself partnered with a grey-eyed man named Nezumi, Shion decides maybe Alaska isn't too bad after all. Nezushi, Trucker AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shion dropped the job listings on his face and closed his eyes. In a town of roughly one hundred and sixty people, everyone was gainfully employed. Except for him. And no one was hiring.

“Shion!”

He opened his eyes and stared at the blurred text, far too close to his face for him to read. “Yes, mom?”

“Are you going to help me with the bakery again today, or did you find a place to send your resume?”

Shion winced. “I’m going to be helping out today.”

“Wonderful!” Karan called. Shion could almost believe that she was okay with him being a deadbeat. Almost.

He’d gotten a botany degree, that was the problem. An intimidatingly tremendous college in California specialized in plants, so he’d gone there. And then, when his degree was in his hand and he was throwing his cap in the air, a single white speck in a sea of tanned classmates he’d never talked to, Shion remembered that he was going to have to live with his mother after college. In Alaska. Where plants, for all intents and purposes, did not exist. And now it had been two years, and he had nothing to do here.

If he was truthful, Shion didn’t have to go and live with Karan after college. He could have fought for an apartment somewhere, then fought for one of the few jobs with an herbal pharmaceutical company that really, really wanted a smart boy just out of college to tell them what magic could be gleaned from fungi, then fought his way up the ladder from note-taker to tester to…

But Shion was not a fighter. He’d realized this as his mortarboard left his fingertips. He wasn’t going to be able to fight for jobs or housing or respect or friends. He’d made it through college with one girlfriend, Safu, a neurosurgeon with control issues and a tendency to call out what her brain chemicals were doing when she was menstruating or horny. She’d been his only friend, too. Classes had been too big and Shion had been too quiet and too smart, so he’d never really talked to anyone else. Safu had a job in San Francisco now, last he’d heard. She’d emailed him pictures of a woman’s brain, the skull laid open like a cracked egg, and Shion had walked to the bathroom and thrown up for ten minutes straight before he could email her back. “So proud of you!”

She was working part-time as a dominatrix. Safu said it was to study patterns of atypical arousal. Shion had decided he wasn’t going to question her motives anymore. “So proud of you!”

But Shion was jobless, living with his mother, helping her run her little bakery and making her no extra money. She could really use it, too. She’d been renting out his room while he’d been in college to some weird old friend of hers, Rikiga, and now Rikiga kept showing up in the bakery and glaring at Shion. Shion had kicked him out. It was Shion’s fault his mom couldn’t afford to ship fresh ingredients to the bakery. It was Shion’s fault cherry cake had been taken off the menu. He was dead weight and he knew it.

Shion snatched the job listings off his face and reached for his pants. At least he could help his mom out while he was here.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, welcome!”

Shion looked up from the tray of buns he was putting on display behind the counter. When he glanced over his shoulder, he realized why she hadn’t greeted the customer by name. He had never seen this… person before in his life.

The individual was completely swaddled in a ripped-up maroon parka, jeans shredded at the knees. There were long, greasy locks of hair protruding from a woolly cap with a bobble on it, but the person’s face was hidden by snow goggles. He or she was even shorter than Karan, but looked around with a fierce, nervous energy that left Shion feeling faintly worried about this strange person.

“Do you do sandwiches?” The voice was high and grating and gave no clues as to whether this was a man or a woman.

“Um, yes, we do,” Karan said, smiling hesitantly. “What would you like?”

“Twenty ham.”

“What?”

“With cheese. Maybe. Is it extra for cheese?”

“I’m sorry, twenty?” Karan blinked.

“Yeah. Kinda fast. The boys are getting pissy.”

“The… boys? Is this a catered event? Are there twenty people in your party?”

The person finally lifted their goggles and squinted at Karan. “The hell’re you talkin about?”

Shion walked over to stand behind his mother. “Sorry, but… I don’t think we’ve met you before. Who are you?”

The person looked him up and down. “Who are _you_? Jeez, did the snow bleach you?”

“Shion,” he said, and stepped around Karan to hold out a hand. “I’m Karan’s son. I help her out with the bakery.”

The person snorted, staring at his hand with faint confusion. “Right. I’m Inukashi and I still need twenty ham sandwiches. With cheese, so long as it’s not more expensive with cheese.”

“It isn’t,” Shion said, taking his hand back and smiling. “What kind of cheese?”

Inukashi stared at him blankly. “The orange kind.”

“Right,” Shion said. His mother smiled at him gratefully as he turned to start making sandwiches.

“D’you have potato chips?” Inukashi called after him. “And d’you deliver? Cuz I gotta go make sure they’re not tearing my office apart.”

“Yes,” Karan stepped in, “we do have potato chips. Where would you like us to deliver?”

“Out along the road a ways.” Inukashi gestured vaguely. “It’s the big sign. _Snow Dogs_.”

“Like the movie?” Shion asked, poking his head around the corner as he spread mustard on a slice of rye.

Inukashi’s eyes narrowed. “What movie?”

Karan shook her head quickly at her son. “We don’t talk about that movie up here, Shion. It never happened.”

Shion blushed and ducked back to work. “Right, sorry.”

“I’ll drive them over when they’re done,” Karan said as she rang up Inukashi. “It might take me a little while, especially with snow like this. I hope that’s not a problem.”

Inukashi shrugged. “The boys’ve waited this long, they can wait a bit longer. At least now they know something’s coming for em.”

Karan smiled and nodded. The cash register pinged. “That will be—”

Shion popped around the corner again. “Mom, you shouldn’t be driving when it’s this snowy. I can do it.”

Karan looked at him, frowning slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Shion said. “The car always behaves better for me, you know that.”

His mother glanced out the window. The snow was drifting like they were in a snowglobe, peacefully settling to earth. It looked like a Christmas card outside. “Okay, Shion, but you be careful.”

Shion smiled. “I will be. We have chains on it, in any case. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes or so,” he added to Inukashi.

“Good,” Inukashi muttered, handing over some crumpled, torn bills that Karan accepted with a smile. “Don’t be late or else they’re likely to eat you.” The bell above the door clanged as Inukashi banged out.


	3. Chapter 3

The windshield wipers were going crazy and Shion was still struggling to see the markers that showed where the road was. “Uh oh.” He squinted, then rubbed at his fogging windshield and squinted again. He knew this road well, but he couldn’t remember seeing a sign that said—

“Snow Dogs,” Shion sighed. It was right there. How had he never noticed? He’d been living here for as long as he could remember and he’d never seen that sign before. It was back from the highway and written on a piece of white board in black paint that had dripped and drizzled at the bottom. 

**Snow Dogs Trucking**

Shion turned down the bulldozed path and kept a careful lookout, his foot resting on the brake. When a mobile office came into view, he tapped the car to a full stop and put on the parking brake. There was a line of semi trucks, some cabs hooked to trailers while others were looking bereft and top-heavy. The bags of sandwiches weighed him down as he struggled to keep them out of the snow. He didn’t want to put them down, so Shion ended up slamming his shoulder against the door a few times, as politely as possible. “Sandwiches are here!” he called.

The door was yanked open. “Fuckin _finally_ ,” Inukashi growled, then stopped and peered at the weather. “Wait, you drove in this?”

“Yes, it wasn’t too bad,” Shion said. “Your sign was a bit hard to see, but—“

“You got some balls,” Inukashi proclaimed, nodding in respect. The huge jacket was off but Shion still wasn’t quite sure if he was looking at a boy or a girl. Whoever they were, though, they worked hard. Inukashi was burnt brown from the sun off the snow, and there wasn’t an inch of fat anywhere. One sleeve was torn off at the bicep while the other had been torn off above the wrist, and there were marks of frostbite all over Inukashi’s hands and arms.

“What’re you lookin at?”

Shion looked up into suspicious brown eyes. “Oh, sorry! I was just seeing the, uh, your scars.”

“Yeah?” Inukashi looked pleased. “Pretty badass, huh? Hey, check this—“ Inukashi tugged up the shorter sleeve and revealed a tattoo of a wolf’s paw with the word MOTHER underneath it. “I’m damn proud of this one, it’s a tribute to my ma. She taught me everything I needed to know to live up here. I’m a survivor, Sean, and these scars prove it!”

“Shion.”

“Eh?”

“My name is Shion, not Sean.”

Inukashi put hands on hips, then jerked a thumb at the door behind them. “Yeah, whatever. Get these boys food, they’re starting to get on my nerves with their whining.”

Shion sighed and hefted the bags again.

“Grub’s up, you pack of bitches!” Inukashi yelled, throwing open the door.

Shion stared at the heap of dogs lying in the middle of the room. They all looked back at him, then zeroed in on the bags he was holding. As one, they rose up and leaped. Shion closed his eyes and tried not to let his life flash before his eyes. There were some parts he didn’t want to have to see a second time. The wave of dogs hit him and he went down, still trying to forget the time he’d gotten a shameful 97 on a Calculus test.

All he felt were dog tongues licking him enthusiastically. Shion cracked an eye, then started giggling. Some dogs were nosing around in the bags, attacking the sandwiches, but most were leaping around on him and waggling their entire bodies. Shion started trying to pet all of them, laughing with delight. “Hi, puppies!”

He’d met sled dogs before but they were working dogs, never as friendly as these sweet canines. These dogs were all over him, silent apart from happy huffs and the occasional yip of delight.

“What the fuck?”

Shion looked up and felt himself turn completely red. A man with some of the coldest eyes Shion had ever seen was glaring at him over the rim of a truly enormous scarf. After a moment of silence, the man turned. “Hey! Inukashi! Is this kid supposed to be lunch?”

Inukashi cackled from somewhere in the office. “You’re gonna have to fight the dogs for this one!”

“Seriously, Inukashi, where’s my goddamned food?” The man glared at Shion again but Shion looked away hastily, struggling to push himself out of the heap of dogs. They all seemed so sad to see him go.

“The kid brought sandwiches but I’m tellin ya, ya gotta fight the dogs for em!”

“I brought chips, too,” Shion said, reaching into the pocket of his parka. He bit his lip when he realized how sadly flat the bags were. “Um. I think the dogs crushed them, though. Sorry.”

The man rubbed his eyebrows, breathing slowly. “Delightful.” He looked down at the dogs now nosing around in the sandwich bags. Shion watched him, still blushing hard. Those eyes… They were such a strange color, like steel, or like the sky just before it snowed. The man squatted down suddenly and smacked a dog on the nose as it was about to take a bite out of a sandwich. The dog yelped.

“Nezumi, you sack of shit, don’t hit my fucking dogs!” Inukashi had a powerful pair of lungs for such a small person. 

The man named Nezumi chewed his bite of sandwich and swallowed before he answered. “Don’t let your fucking dogs get in the way of my lunch. Where’d you find these?”

“They’re from the kid’s mom’s bakery,” Inukashi said, fists relaxing slowly. 

Nezumi’s gaze landed on Shion again and Shion couldn’t decide whether he wanted to look away or keep staring back into those chilly, beautiful eyes. In the end, he just blinked a lot.

Nezumi looked back at the sandwich. “It’s good.”

Shion smiled. “Thanks.”

“Well damn, now I want one,” Inukashi said, ducking down. The dogs moved aside, leaving one slightly battered—but still whole—sandwich behind. Inukashi bit into it and then shrugged. “S’okay. Could use horseradish.”

“Hm.” Nezumi had finished his food while Shion wasn’t looking and was now walking off. His snow pants were tucked into his boot on the left side but not the right. Maybe mismatched clothing lengths were the mark of this trucking company.

“Hold it,” Inukashi said. “What are you planning to do to this one?”

Nezumi paused but didn’t turn. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You gonna rip the top off of this one too? Scrape the paint off the whole left side of the trailer? You gonna go all dramatic again and break every single mirror on the cab? You know how much bad luck that was?”

Nezumi looked over his shoulder with an expression of disdain that would put countesses and princesses to shame. “Again, I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“You’re a reckless driver,” Inukashi said, voice gravelly. There was a hint of a snarl on that sharp face. “I don’t want you messing up the merchandise. This shit’s important.”

Nezumi shrugged. “Whatever it is you’re sending me off with, make sure it’s not fragile.” He started walking again. “You wouldn’t find anyone else willing to drive in these kind of conditions anyway. You need me to help you out. Quit bitching about it.”

“I can fire you,” Inukashi said. Shion tried to press himself into the wall. All of the dogs were watching this conversation like it was a tennis match.

“You can’t replace me though.” Nezumi was at the door, hand on the knob.

Inukashi glared. “This fucking kid could do your job, Nezumi, don’t think you’re hot shit just because you drive like a concussed James Bond.”

Nezumi snorted. “Don’t make me laugh. He’s a _delivery boy_ , Inukashi.”

“He drove here in one piece,” Inukashi pointed out. “Blizzard conditions.”

“Sure he did.”

“He did.”

Nezumi looked at Shion and Shion looked back. “Did you?”

“Yes? I mean, I grew up here, it’s not that difficult—”

“Inukashi seems to think it is difficult,” Nezumi said. “I _know_ it’s difficult. You ever drive a semi?”

Shion shook his head, trying not to imagine where this conversation could be heading.

“You want to try it?” Nezumi’s smile was wide, but his eyes were still frozen pools of mercury.

“I think I should be getting back to the bakery,” Shion said, trying to step around Nezumi.

It did not work. Nezumi’s arm slammed in front of him, cutting off escape. Shion stared at it, wondering if he should try to limbo under. He decided he liked his dignity right where it was, though, and settled for staring pleadingly at Inukashi.

Inukashi was grinning meanly. “Race?”

“What happens when I win?” Nezumi asked.

“You keep your fucking job,” Inukashi laughed, “and I don’t set the dogs on you next time I catch you sneaking food.”

“Fine.”

“If he wins, though, he’s the new driver.”

Shion looked at Inukashi, then at Nezumi. “…Are you offering me a job?”

“Ayup.”

Shion’s hand strayed to the empty pockets of his parka. “I don’t have a resume with me…”

“A what?” Inukashi laughed. “This isn’t Canada, man, this is Alaska! We don’t speak French here and I’m offering you the most kickass job there is!”

Shion knew he wasn’t going to like the answer, but he asked, “What job is that?”

“Ice road trucker!”


	4. Chapter 4

It was well and truly dumping snow by the time Shion had been stuffed in a truck and told “Don’t break a fuckin thing, you got that? Watch out for your trailer, take turns wide, and make sure your brakes don’t fuck out on ya. Okay. That’s about it. The dog’ll bark and you’ll know to go.” Inukashi left a dog behind, a golden flop-eared thing which curled up on the passenger’s seat and blinked at Shion with its tongue out.

Shion stared at the truck. It was an old one, and the fact that it smelled like dog suggested it was Inukashi’s. Nezumi had vanished into the white to get his own truck, so Shion looked at the key he’d been given.

It was attached to a battered, chewed-on rubber dog bone the size of Shion’s index finger.

He felt around for the keyhole and winced when the truck growled to life. “Shhh!” he hissed automatically, wishing there was a volume button he could turn down. The dog beside him yawned.

Shion tested the brakes and windshield wipers and headlights, wondering if he really wanted to be an ice road trucker. His first instinct was NO WAY, but then he remembered his mom, covered in flour and dead tired, working longer hours to try and keep two people alive now that he was back from school. And Shion was sitting alone in his room, re-reading yet another textbook on the Burren and the botanical wonders that awaited…

Shion tapped the gas and listened to the truck howl. It didn’t sound any less terrifying, but this time Shion gritted his teeth. He’d just do his best. He was a good driver, he was cautious, he would be fine.

The dog beside him suddenly swung its head to look out the windshield. It barked once, tail flopping slightly. Inukashi must have blown a whistle or something. Shion shifted out of park and eased his foot onto the gas.

There was an immense roar from Shion’s right that made him squeak. Nezumi blasted past him, spattering Shion’s windshield with snow. Shion yelped again as the truck fishtailed its way out of the parking lot of Snow Dogs Trucking and set off down the race route. Shion pressed the gas a little harder and twisted the wheel, listening hard to hear if anything was tipping over in the trailer. Nothing sounded like it was in danger of shattering, so he kept going.

Every turn he made, Shion held his breath. Every time he heard only silence behind him, he breathed out. Nezumi’s taillights came in and out of view as the man fought for control on turns, then blasted away on the rare straight stretches of road. Shion followed quietly, trying to catch up whenever Nezumi’s lights started weaving all over the place. 

Shion still lost, but at least it was only by a minute or so. He took his time parking the truck, quashing his disappointment. Another job opportunity down the drain. It had been a weird interview, though. The company would have been interesting…

Shion found himself remembering the way Nezumi’s eyes narrowed and widened and he shook his head quickly. The dog beside him took the opportunity to try licking the inside of his ear.

“Augh!” Shion giggled and fought to open the door to the cab. He almost fell out into the snow, and did collapse when the dog barreled into him on its way out. He came up half-blind with his face freezing to hear the sounds of generalized fighting.

“You bashed it all to hell again, you fuckin idiot!”

“Oh, shut up, I won fair and square. He was in my rearview the whole time.”

“Yeah, and his shit barely shifted! Whereas _you, you_ have— Goddammit, Nezumi, you traumatized my uncle!”

“It’s a _dog_ , Inukashi, it’s fine.”

“Oh sure, my dog’s fine but your rats, and may I point out that you live with rats, are going to keel over if you don’t recite Macbeth to them every single evening! You’re fucked in the head!”

“Quit your bitching, I still won.”

Shion peered around the truck he’d driven. Inukashi was inches from Nezumi’s face, hands in fists but not touching him. Nezumi was just standing there, slightly slouched, and he looked dangerous. Shion edged a little closer.

Nezumi’s head snapped up and Shion saw him squint through the driving snow. “There’s last place right there.”

Inukashi looked around. “Hey, Sean! C’mere!”

“It’s Shion,” Shion murmured, crossing his arms and tucking his cold fingers into his armpits.

“Yeah, right. So you lost, but that was some of the sweetest driving I’ve seen. Seriously. I can’t remember the last time cargo survived intact.” Nezumi snorted. Inukashi ignored him, the beginnings of a smirk creeping across the thin face. “As far as I’m concerned, Shion, you’re fuckin hired.”

“What?” Nezumi and Shion spoke at the same time. Nezumi glared over at him, but Shion was busy staring at Inukashi.

“You’re serious?” Shion gasped. “Really? Oh gosh, thanks! Thank you!”

“Yeah,” Inukashi said, still smiling evilly. “You’re gonna be Nezumi’s partner.”

“What?” The boys spoke in unison again.

“No,” Nezumi said, taking over now. “I’m not working with a partner.”

“We’re gonna give it a test run,” Inukashi said, ignoring Nezumi again. “Tonight, I need you to haul some shit to Valdez. I need you back by tomorrow afternoon, I got some things going to Fairbanks, but you guys should get to know each other and see if this works. It would be ideal. Nezumi, you are ballsy, I’ll give you that, but Shion here’s likely to make sure the cargo gets there in once piece. You see the logic? Two driving styles are better than one.” Inukashi nodded at their own wisdom.

“Fuck that,” Nezumi spat, furious. “He’s _sixteen_ , he’s a virgin at this—” Shion blushed hard at that “—and there’s no way we’re making it to Valdez and back tonight!”

“That’s why I gave you till afternoon,” Inukashi said magnanimously. “And yeah, if you wanna keep your job at all, you’re takin the kid. You are over eighteen though, right?” Inukashi added, glancing at Shion.

“Oh, uh yeah,” Shion said. “I’m twenty-one.”

“No kidding? Same age as this asshole then. All right you two crazy kids, get outta here.”

“I have to tell my mom,” Shion said quickly. Both Inukashi and Nezumi stared at him, blank-faced.

Nezumi spoke first. “You live with your mom?”

“Um, yes?”

“Yeah,” Inukashi said unexpectedly, “you should tell your ma.” There was a quiet sadness to Inukashi for a moment, which faded when they looked up and caught Nezumi and Shion both staring. “Get your ass moving, Sean!”

“O-okay,” Shion said, digging in his pocket for the keys to the car. “I’ll, um, I’ll be right back.” He fled to the bakery van, trying not to look back. He didn’t fully succeed. He felt eyes on him when he was fumbling to unlock the car (why he bothered locking it when he knew no one in town would steal Karan’s van was a mystery even to himself) and he glanced behind him. A gust of wind smeared snow across his vision, but he was still sure he’d seen steel eyes before the flurry got in the way.


	5. Chapter 5

Shion buckled his seat belt. Nezumi did not.

It was cluttered in the cab of Nezumi’s truck. Books littered the dashboard, were stuffed down the sides of the seats and crammed the space behind the cab that was usually filled with a cozy bed. There was one sleeping bag and one blanket tucked by Shion’s feet; he was careful to keep his damp boots away from them. He placed his backpack on top to protect them. A strangely sweet smell was rising from the glove compartment, which had caution tape wrapped around it, and dangling from the mirror was a small glass wasp that glittered in a rainbow of colors when the light hit it just right. 

Shion glanced at Nezumi, who was glaring at a scrap of paper and seemed to be calculating a timetable under his breath, and then reached over carefully and picked up one of the books that had been chucked on top of the dashboard. He peered at the cover. _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_. He picked up another book. _Mourning Becomes Electra_. Another one. _Hamlet_. _Waiting for Godot_. _Julius Caesar_. _The Glass Menagerie_. _Medea_. Shion opened one of the books without looking at the title and found it to be full of notes in a cramped, jerky hand. Lines were highlighted, then underlined, then highlighted again in a different color. One line that had been particularly abused was almost illegible, but Shion squinted and held the book close to his face. The margins said _Building emotion, passion restrained_ in that cramped script. They seemed to be notes on how to act when reciting the lines. Shion’s lips moved as he read the words. “You said to me when my hand was on another man’s cheek that there were all types and shades of love—But what is it, then, this very particular way in which you love me? What color? What temperature? And please do not say: you are my wife, I am your husband—” 

The book was smacked out of his hand. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

“Sorry!” Shion said, clasping his hands together and clamping them between his knees so they wouldn’t be able to take anything else off the dashboard. All of the books he’d accumulated slid off his lap and slapped the floor softly. He could feel himself starting to turn red again.

Nezumi twisted the key and, as the engine woke up angrily, he reached over and stabbed the PLAY button on the radio. There was a slow whirring and then a click, and music filled the car. Shion looked up. “Oh! I know this song!”

“Yeah? Congratulations. You should get a fucking trophy.”

Shion ducked his head again. After a few moments, he started humming along. “All my… life I’ve… watched you dance along…”

“Stop that.”

“Sorry.”

Nezumi sighed. “All right, just… sit there and be quiet, okay?”

Shion nodded. “Sure. I can do that.”

“Good.” Nezumi took the truck out of park and immediately slammed on the gas.

“What are you doing!” Shion screamed, grabbing for the oh-god handle above the door.

Nezumi gave him a strange look. “I’m driving—”

“Look at the road, look at the road!” Shion yelled. “Oh gosh, no wonder Inukashi’s always mad!”

Nezumi started laughing. It was a strange bubbling sound that turned into a rich belly-laugh that didn’t seem like it would ever stop. His eyes were closed as he shook with mirth and Shion kept himself tense, scanning the road ahead frantically. Despite his fear, though, Shion kept being drawn back to the sight of this man laughing. His bangs were getting in his eyes. Shion thought for a fleeting second about brushing them out of the way, then held on even more tightly to the oh-god handle.

Nezumi took a breath. “Look, Shion, I’ve been driving these roads a long time, I know how they work. Oh god, you’re face…” Nezumi snickered again, then calmed down. His face smoothed out into something sarcastic. It looked much more natural than the laughter had. “Let go of the handle, you’ll rip it off and then Inukashi’ll be pissed at me for it.”

“Slow down then!” Shion said, not letting go. “You’re twenty over the speed limit and visibility isn’t good! You should be five above the limit, max!”

“Don’t tell me how to drive.”

“We’ll get pulled over!”

“Cops won’t be out in this weather.”

“We’ll skid! We’ll die!”

Nezumi shrugged. “I doubt it.”

“We will!”

“Relax, Christ, you’re giving me a headache. Look, let me tell you a thing about ice road trucking. This may help you someday. I mean, not at this job, because there’s no way I’m keeping someone with the rules of the road crammed up his asshole in my truck, but maybe someday.” Nezumi reached over and yanked Shion’s parka, then turned the music down so it was just a soothing hum. Shion unclamped his hands.

Nezumi stared out the windshield for a moment. “You get really weird nightmares on this job, okay? Like… what would happen if you fell asleep driving and then you wake up when you’re already in a skid? Or you think the road’s fine but it turns out to be ice. Thin ice. That’s the kind of shit I—you start dreaming about. All these hypotheticals. Go ahead and let those scenarios play out in your head. Let the worst of the worst come at you. It stops scaring you after a while.”

Shion remembered to close his mouth after a moment. “When does it stop scaring you?”

Nezumi looked like he hadn’t heard for a moment. Then the song changed, he blinked, and he said, “I’ll let you know when it happens. Mostly, you stay alive because you want to be alive. That’s all I’ve got.” He slapped the REWIND button on the radio now and, after a few second whirring, the CD skipped back. The song played again. And again. Nezumi played it five more times before he banged on the eject button and slid the CD into a book on his dashboard. Shion tolerated the silence a few more minutes. He noticed they were going seven miles over the speed limit but decided not to bring it up. He really, really needed this job, and he supposed that this meant he had to make Nezumi like him. He thought of what else they could talk about. Then, a small black rat appeared on the dashboard and saved Shion from having to make conversation.

“Who’s that?” Shion asked. The rat was staring at him. Shion stared back.

“It’s one of my rats,” Nezumi said. 

“One of them?”

“The others are around here somewhere.” As Nezumi spoke, a pale brown rat appeared. Its color reminded Shion of some of the pastries his mother made. This one joined the black rat and the two of them now stared at him with their dark inkspot eyes.

Shion smiled at them. “Are they your pets?”

Nezumi smirked. “I guess. They take care of themselves for the most part.”

“What are their names?” Shion reached a finger out to this second rat, who sniffed at his nail.

“I never gave them names.”

Shion gaped at Nezumi. “Why not? They’re so cute!” He moved to carefully pet the brown one’s head. “This one looks like a cravat.”

“Like a necktie?”

“It’s a kind of pastry, actually. My mom makes them.” Shion moved to petting the black rat. “This one looks like moonlight.”

Nezumi was looking at Shion like this was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. “He’s a black rat, he doesn’t look like moonlight.”

“Where’s the third one?”

“He likes books. He’s probably gnawing my copy of Macbeth or something,” Nezumi sighed.

“Oh, I see him,” Shion said. This rat was completely white. He was indeed gnawing on the Scottish play, red eyes focused intently on destroying the corner of the book. Shion reached down slowly and nudged him away from the play. The rat sniffed Shion’s finger, then nipped at it and fled.

“Don’t bother them,” Nezumi muttered.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize either— Look, just chill out, okay?”

“Okay.” Shion wove his fingers together and looked out the window again. The snow was lighter now, which was good. There were only a few hours until it got dark. There was a light weight on Shion’s leg suddenly, and he looked down as he felt whiskers on his hand. He giggled as the brown rat Shion was privately calling Cravat nuzzled at his fingers. Shion opened his hands into a nest. Cravat curled up there and Shion smiled, then looked over at Nezumi, who was glaring out the window. The rats liked him, why not their owner? Shion thought of what else the two of them could talk about.

“I haven’t seen you in town. When did you move there?”

“Didn’t.”

Shion blinked. “Where are you living then?”

Nezumi smirked and waved a hand. “Here.”

Shion looked around. “Oh. Uh. It’s nice?”

Nezumi darted a glance at him. “It’s a place to sleep and keep my books, that’s all I really need. How’s living with Mommy?”

“I feel bad,” Shion said. “She used to rent my room out and she could make a little extra money to keep the bakery nice, but now I’m there and I’m unemployed, so I’m not a lot of help. And Rikaga always glares at me now like he knows I’m useless—”

“Ha!” Nezumi coughed out a laugh that sounded slightly painful. “Oh god, that creep. Your mom’s well rid of him. Goddamn.”

“What?” Shion blinked. “I thought he was a newspaper man…”

Nezumi was shaking his head and smiling. The smile wasn’t a nice one. “No, Shion, he’s a pimp.”

Shion felt his eyes growing huge. “He— he what?”

“He sells girls. To guys. Or guys to guys, or whatever flavors you feel like combining in your ice cream sundae. At least, he used to. He’s a little down on his luck. His ladies don’t like him very much. Most of them left. And he was rooming with your mom… Shit, that’s just bad luck.”

“I didn’t know that,” Shion said softly, blinking as the windshield wipers flicked back and forth. He ran a finger over Cravat and felt the rat twitch before Shion settled into a rhythmic petting that the rat could predict.

Nezumi snorted. “Damn, you’re sheltered aren’t you? College boy, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Shion said, “botany.” He looked up and found Nezumi frowning at him. “Watch the road! What?”

“Don’t tell me how to drive,” Nezumi said. “What the fuck are you doing in Alaska with a botany degree?”

“My mom lives here,” Shion said. “I grew up here. I didn’t… I wasn’t quite sure where else to go.”

“Where’s your dad living? Anywhere’s got to be better for botany than Alaska.”

Shion shrugged. “I don’t know who my father is.”

Nezumi raised both eyebrows. “Ah. Well then. Even better. Opens up the possibilities. Just go off wandering.”

“I didn’t know where to go,” Shion repeated. “I came back here because I thought I’d find something to do with my life. I wasn’t sure what. I don’t make friends easily, so I wouldn’t have done well anywhere else.”

“You are really way too honest, you know that?” Nezumi said. “Shit, you’re an open book. Be careful with that. It’s not safe.”

“What do you mean?”

Nezumi looked at him with the same princess-like exasperation Shion had seen him use in Inukashi’s office earlier that day. “I mean don’t give yourself away to strangers. Not even whores do that.”

Shion felt a twisting in his gut. “I don’t see why it’s a bad thing. I’m just telling the truth about myself.”

“Start becoming a better liar,” Nezumi said. “And pass me the radio.”

“What?”

Nezumi reached over Shion’s head, leaning out dangerously far, and snagged a small microphone attached to a CB radio. “Gotta figure out what the road’s like.” He turned the radio on and twisted the dial, listening to a chatter of voices arising from the static. Cravat darted from Shion’s hands and vanished into the back of the cab as Nezumi spoke into the microphone. “Break, break, break. Eve here. Over.” The chatter died down. “Traveling the Richardson highway, looking to avoid trouble. What’s the weather like? Over.”

Shion couldn’t stop grinning. “Oh my gosh, are we real truckers now? On the radio and everything, oh my gosh!”

“Okay, shut up,” Nezumi said. He listened to the scratchy voices speaking in rough code. “Ten four from Eve, see some of you at the West Block. Back out.” He hung up the microphone. “We’re set for tonight I think. Storm won’t be a bad one.”

“There’ll be a storm?” Shion said.

“I said it won’t be bad.”

Shion stared up at the radio. “You call yourself Eve on the radio?”

Nezumi kept looking at the road this time. “You pick a handle or you’re given one.”

“Can I pick mine?”

Nezumi thought for a moment. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You’re not a trucker. You’re a kid riding shotgun.”

Shion blinked. “But Inukashi hired me.”

“Yeah, and you only get this job with my say-so. And I don’t like company.”

“Oh.”

Nezumi glanced at him. “Jesus, put the sad eyes away. It’s creepy. What’s that thing on your face, by the way?”

Shion reached up automatically and touched the end of his scar. “Something I got a while ago. It was a really weird illness. A lot of kids in my school got it. I’m, um. I’m the only one who lived. They did an experimental surgery and this was the result.”

Nezumi blinked. “Shit. That’s pretty badass, I guess.”

Shion thought about it for a moment. “I guess it was.”

“You lived. That’s badass.”

“Can I have a trucker name then?”

“No.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Stay in the truck and for the love of god, stop talking,” Nezumi said two hours later. It was nearly dark, and the snow had finally stopped falling. Shion felt that strange itch in the back of his mind that suggested a storm was coming, though. He stretched and looked around him at Valdez, Alaska. He could see the edges of town from where he stood, the crushed slush of the road leading out to the pale snowfields on the horizon. He turned in time to see Nezumi slam the glove compartment shut and stuff a black case in a shopping bag.

“Where’re you going?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just stay here. Take a nap. You can use the blanket, the sleeping bag’s mine.” Nezumi held the door to the car open and waited.

“When will you be back?”

“Couple hours. Get in.”

“But—”

“I’ve got some shit to do. People’ll come unload this fucker for us, don’t worry about it. Inukashi doesn’t want me dealing with the merchandise any more then I have to. Get in and stay put.”

“Why can’t I come with you?”

“What are you, five? Stay. Here.” Nezumi sighed after a moment’s silence. “You can read my books if you want, all right? There’s a light in the back.”

“Can I have the keys? It’s going to get cold.”

“There’s a battery heater in there. Just hit it if it get pissy.”

“Why can’t I have the keys?”

“I don’t want you leaving on me if you get bored or something.”

Shion blinked. “I would never do that.”

“That’s great, thanks, now get in the fucking— I don’t have time for this.” Nezumi dropped his bag on the slushy tarmac and grabbed Shion’s arm tightly, dragging him closer. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t try to leave. Understand?”

Shion could feel Nezumi’s harsh, even breathing on his cheeks. “Y-yeah.”

“Great. Thank you.” Nezumi was staring at him very hard. “Thanks.”

Shion wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so he just looked back at the man. His hair was in his eyes again. The ponytail didn’t keep his bangs out of the way at all. Shion really, really wanted to brush those bangs back and feel how they would tuck behind Nezumi’s ear. That was a weird thought, though, and he quickly focused on not doing that. He felt like Nezumi could tell what he was thinking anyway. The words were spelled out right behind his eyes, in a scribbled hand in the margins of a play about love. _Building emotion, passion restrained…_

Nezumi pushed Shion towards the cab. Shion stumbled, then hung on to the door and pulled himself up and into the truck. “Good luck?” he said down at Nezumi.

“Thanks,” Nezumi said again as he slammed the door. Shion stared after him as he walked away, bag hanging over his shoulder, shoulders hunched and hips swaggering. How on earth did he look that good in a parka?

“Oh,” Shion said when he realized what he was thinking. Falling for a mysterious trucker was probably not a good thing. Shion looked around for a book that would distract him. There didn’t seem to be any textbooks in the tangle on the dashboard. He spotted one book that looked thicker than the rest, though, and aimed for that. _On the Road._

Shion wondered if he was strange to want to read textbooks. He thought of his book on botany and sighed, then opened _On the Road_ to page one.


	7. Chapter 7

_On the Road_ was incredibly boring. Shion had to pee really badly now. These two factors combined to make him jittery. He looked out at the darkness that had well and truly swallowed Valdez. The only light came from the nearby bar. Shion thought about going in there. They’d have bathrooms. They’d have a phone. Maybe he could call his mother and tell her he’d made it to Valdez. The dashboard clock said it was nearly ten, though, so she was probably in bed. She was a baker, she had to go to bed early. Shion looked back at the book, then adjusted the little battery-powered heater so it aimed a little more at his hands. He was still freezing.

It was ten now. Nezumi had been gone for an hour. Shion would just go pee, look around, then come back. Nezumi would never know. Shion pulled on his parka again, tugged on the hat Safu’s grandmother had knitted him, and went to a bar for the second time in his life. He felt tiny claws prick his coat as he left the cab of the truck, and whiskers scraped his ear. When he glanced sideways, Shion realized Cravat was coming along for the ride.

The first time he’d been to a bar, his mother had taken him there for his twenty-first birthday. He had known everyone in the bar since he was a baby. He had one drink, a beer, that he couldn’t bring himself to swallow. He’d given it to an old man in a flannel shirt that had fit him when he’d been younger and stronger and now hung on him like he was a coat hanger. The old man had smiled at him with twelve teeth.

This bar was very different.

For one thing, the lights kept changing colors. There was a ball that turned and projected colorful lights on the walls. Men were crowded around the bar, like they had been at the other establishment Shion had visited, but some were also crowded around a stage. Shion heard an announcer speaking in a low, husky voice. Shion saw the bathroom sign, though, and shuffled towards it. He felt Cravat duck out of sight, the rat tucking himself at the back of Shion’s neck just as the barman spotted him. The barman raised an eyebrow, then looked the other way. 

The urinal wasn’t horrendous, though the graffiti was just completely inaccurate.

Shion was drying his hands on his snow pants when he heard a few whistles. He poked his head out of the bathroom and saw the men at the bar crossing to get closer to the stage. 

“Hey, she’s on!”

“Awww man, I been waitin a week to hear her!”

“I been _thinkin_ about her all week!” 

There were a lot of snickers and elbowings going on. Shion thought about what he remembered from frat boys and started blushing. This was very different from the bar he’d been to back home. He looked down quickly. Someone had knocked a packet of matches to the ground that read WEST BLOCK BAR AND NIGHTCLUB.

Someone had said West Block before…

“Hello, gentlemen.”

Shion felt himself go completely numb. He raised his head slowly and looked at the stage.

A woman was standing easy in six-inch black heels. Her dress was cut to the thigh, silvery and glittering in the rainbow-colored lights. She was slim, tall, with dark hair clipped out of her face but hanging loose past her shoulders. 

She shifted her weight to the other leg, holding the microphone casually, and she smiled. “I’m Eve. Nice to see you.” She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them. They were steel grey and gleamed, but not in the dangerous way Shion was used to. This was far too… well, sensual. This was a new side to Nezumi.

And then Nezumi, who was called Eve right now, opened her… his mouth and started to sing. No music came on to cover the flaws. There weren’t any flaws in his voice to cover.

“ _Highway run  
into the midnight sun.  
Wheels go round and round;  
you’re on my mind.  
Restless hearts  
sleep alone tonight.  
Sending all my love  
along the wire  
They say that the road  
ain’t no place to start a family  
Right down the line  
it’s been you and me.  
And loving a music man  
ain’t always what it’s supposed to be.  
Oh boy,  
you stand by me.  
I’m forever yours,  
faithfully._” 

Shion took a breath for what felt like the first time in his life.

“ _Circus life  
under the big top world—_”

And then Eve, who had been making randomized eye-contact and smiling faintly at the wet-eyed truckers surrounding him, made eye-contact with an albino boy who was standing by the door with his emotions naked for the world to see.

And Eve straightened up, shoulders losing their sultry curve and shapely legs taking on a distinctively aggressive stance. His voice grew a little harsher. But he was a professional. The show went on.

“ _We all need the clowns  
to make us smile  
Through space and time,  
always another show  
wondering where I am,  
lost without you.  
And being apart  
ain’t easy on this love affair,  
two strangers learn  
to fall in love again.  
I get the joy  
of rediscovering you.  
Oh boy,  
you stand by me.  
I’m forever yours,  
faithfully._” 

Men around the stage were starting to turn and look at who Eve was glaring at every other verse. Shion was trying to edge his way out the door without actually missing any of the song. Cravat squeaked whenever Eve hit a high note. Eve began singing wordlessly, eyes narrowed but voice still sweet. Shion forgot he was trying to escape and just stood, looking naked again. There were some quiet murmurings from the crowd underneath Eve’s melodious croonings.

“Who’s the kid?”

“What’s she doin?”

“He botherin her?”

“When’s the next girl comin on? She gets nekkid.”

This last one was a much louder comment from a huge bear of a man who was making his way from the bar to the stage by holding on to the wall for stability. The men around the stage glared at him distastefully. Eve was watching him now, still singing.

“ _Faithfully._ ”

“Where’s the other girl?” 

“ _I’m still yours._ ”

“Whozzis?”

“ _I’m forever yours._ ”

“She’s fuckin hot.”

Eve’s eyes were slits. “ _Ever yours._ ”

The man had reached the stage now and was staring blearily at Eve. “Wherezzer tits though?”

Eve closed his eyes. “Faithfully.”

There was a silence that the drunk man filled with a very large burp. “You a man or a lady, lady?”

“Thank you, gentlemen. Excuse me,” Eve said, and took a small bow. The men who had been watching him perform clapped quietly, sincerely. Eve nodded at them and turned to go. His dress was backless and Shion took another breath in that felt distinctly different from every other breath he’d taken in his life. 

“Take it off, woooo!” laughed the drunk man. “Take it off!”

Eve took an imperceptible pause, then kept moving. He glanced over his shoulder at all the men, who were either staring at the drunk man or staring at Eve, and he winked. And then he was offstage.

“Wan’ my fuckin money back,” the drunk man yelled. “She wasn’t even a she!”

For some reason, Shion found himself running towards this man, then flying through the air, then punching him hard in the face. It was at this point that all hell broke loose.


	8. Chapter 8

Shion technically won because the drunk man fell asleep almost instantly, though the blood pouring from his nose made it look like Shion had slit his throat. Shion was hauled away by two quiet, softspoken men who were built like linebackers.

“Sorry, kid, you gotta go.”

“Thanks for putting him to sleep, though.”

They dumped Shion outside and politely closed the door in his face. Shion stared at the door, then turned in time to see Nezumi, who was now dressed as Nezumi, stomping towards him. Nezumi hadn’t taken of his makeup yet, and his eyeliner was some of the best Shion had ever seen. It was strange, the details that stood out. There was one silver clip still trapped in Nezumi’s dark hair. His lips shone slightly under the light from the bar sign. His parka was ripped in three places and had been mended in two. Shion swallowed as Nezumi got too close to him, slammed him to the wall, and spoke in a voice so cold with rage that it made Shion’s stomach drop.

“I told you. To wait. In the truck.”

Shion nodded. Nezumi had indeed told him this.

“You showed up anyway.”

This was also true. Shion nodded again.

“How dare you.”

Cravat’s little head popped out of Shion’s collar. Nezumi stepped back and Shion felt a chill hit his chest where Nezumi had been smashed against him.

Nezumi was looking at him without expression suddenly. “Let’s go.”

Shion followed him without a word, still feeling his stomach drop and drop and drop.


	9. Chapter 9

The truck was stuttering down the road. Nezumi was skidding every few hundred feet, cursing under his breath as he squinted through the windshield. The storm was upon them.

“We should pull over,” Shion offered.

Nezumi flashed a glare at him. His eyeliner was still absolutely perfect, and he hadn’t smeared his lipstick yet. Shion clamped his hands between his knees and stared out the window, into the darkness and the white.

There was a series a strange noises, barely audible over the wind. Nezumi immediately slowed down, though, and Shion scrabbled for the oh-god handle. They were both completely silent now. Nezumi frowned and tapped the gas, then cursed viciously when the truck kept decelerating.

“Motherfucking shit goddamn this fucking machine,” he said evenly, hands clamped to the wheel. “Get the radio, Shion.”

Shion reached for the CB, flicked the same switches he’d seen Nezumi tap. “Um, break. Break.” He looked over at Nezumi. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Twist the dial on the left and start saying ‘radio check.’”

“Radio check? Hello? Radio check. Radio check.” There was only static, no matter what frequency Shion turned the radio to. All Shion knew for sure was that there were no trees a foot in front of them, and the truck was still slowing down. Otherwise, it was just the two of them trapped in a snowstorm. Shion turned off the radio without another word. 

“Fuck.” Nezumi’s mouth was a tense line as he steered them off the road gently, easing them to a stop and slamming the keys into a cupholder. “Wait here.”

“Don’t!” Shion said the minute he realized what Nezumi was doing. Nezumi already had one leg out the door, though, and he was not listening. “It’s a blizzard!” Shion yelled after him. The door slammed.

Shion sat in silence, hearing his own harsh breathing. The truck had been off for a minute and he could already see his breath crystalizing in front of his face. His hands were fists. He tried counting the number of times air left his lungs. He hit three hundred and ninety eight before launching himself over to the driver’s side and fumbling at the door handle, then pushing it shut behind him.

The world was white. The wind was intense. Shion pressed himself against the side of the cab and kept moving around towards the front. He counted his steps. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…

Shion had turned around the edge of the truck and was on twenty-one when he almost tripped of Nezumi. The man was crouched almost under the truck, scraping snow away from the undercarriage as he tried to get a look underneath the vehicle. Shion grabbed him and started backing away, counting down steps this time. Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen… Nezumi wasn’t fighting him. Shion tried to ignore this fact in favor of the numbers. When he hit zero, he felt around for the door handle, eyes closed against the snow and wind. He found it on his third pass across the side of the truck, tugged at the door until it opened enough for a person to squeeze through, then dragged himself and Nezumi into the truck. The door slammed behind them.

Shion was still gasping for air when Nezumi said, “What the f-f-fuck did you do that f-f-for?”

“Saved your life,” Shion wheezed, sitting up. “Here.” He dug under the passenger’s seat and unearthed Nezumi’s sleeping bag. “Get in this.”

“What?” Nezumi’s hair was clouded with snow that was barely melting. That wasn’t good. Shion brushed at it, definitely not noticing that Nezumi conditioned his hair, then started unrolling the sleeping bag with numb fingers. 

“You need to get warm,” Shion said. “I told you not to go out there, this is a serious blizzard. I haven’t seen one like this in, um, since I was eight or so I think.”

“M’ f-f-fine.” Nezumi was glaring at him, but he snatched the sleeping bag and slid off his boots and coat so he could cram himself inside. Nezumi shifted his hips until he was in the bag, then dragged it over his shoulders and closed his eyes. Shion watched him for a moment, then reached over to brush more snow away. He noticed his hand shaking, then realized that Nezumi’s eyes were slitted and he could see Shion shaking.


	10. Chapter 10

“Are you cold too?” Nezumi said.

“Um, a bit,” Shion said. “I’m not too bad, though, to be honest.”

“The blanket’s still up for grabs. I think it’s getting colder in here.”

“Yes, it is getting colder. I’ll try the heater.”

“Fuck.”

Shion looked up from bopping the little battery-operated heater. “What?”

Nezumi was rubbing his eyes. “Those batteries were shit to begin with. Did you have it running the whole time I was… Did you leave it running?”

Shion blinked. “Oh. Yes. Oh dear.”

Nezumi sighed. “Ah fuck.” He straightened up and hauled himself over his seat and into the back of the cab, landing gracefully on one of the few spaces that was not filled with books. He shifted a few piles until there was a bit more room, then lay down. “Bring the blanket and get over here.”

“What?”

Nezumi glared at him until Shion obeyed, sliding on a few paperbacks and landing heavily on a corner of _The Complete Works of William Shakespeare_. “Ouch!”

“All right, don’t make this weird.” Nezumi had climbed out of his sleeping bag and was holding it open, glaring. It took a woefully long time for Shion to comprehend what the other man was suggesting.

“Um.” 

Nezumi’s mouth twisted into something ugly. “Shut up and get in. It’s going to get worse in here very quickly. Even the rats’ll be cold at this rate.”

“Will they? Do we need to find them—”

“They’re fuckin rats, they can take care of themselves. Don’t freak out if you feel one crawling around your ears at night, though, I don’t take kindly to being kicked awake.”

Shion knew that there was no way he was getting out of this with his dignity. He toed his boots of, stripped out of his parka, and kept his eyes focused on the ground as he tucked himself into the back of the sleeping bag with his back to Nezumi. He tried not to noticeably swallow when he felt Nezumi climb in behind him so they were back-to-back. The blanket covered the pieces of them that stuck out of the sleeping bag and the cab of the truck fell painfully silent.

Shion coughed and felt Nezumi go tense. “Sorry, Nezumi.”

“For what?”

“Bothering you.”

“I told you to wait in the fucking car!” The rage was back, but this time it was loud and fiery. Nezumi sat up, dragging most of the blanket with him. “Why the fuck did you go in a bar in the first place? You’re an innocent moron!”

Shion felt himself blushing. “…I had to pee.”

“Then you go outside, Jeeesus Christ!” Nezumi’s voice was muffled, as if he’d buried his face in his hands. Shion felt him sigh, then winced as the rage returned full-force, this time taking a completely different direction. “And you didn’t tell me I still had makeup on? God _dammit_ , Shion!”

Shion looked up and saw Nezumi glaring at his hands, eyeliner smeared and lipstick smudged. It didn’t take away from the fact that he was beautiful, and Shion could feel his thoughts pressing up against the skin of his eyeballs, writing his emotions for Nezumi to see. Shion looked away quickly. This man was not a kind person. He was angry and loud and he swore a lot and… He was scared, Shion realized. He blinked, then looked back at Nezumi, who was muttering to himself as he wiped at his face with a corner of the blanket. Nezumi was scared for some reason. Safu would have said that this was classic defensive behavior. She would have known why he was scared, too, but Shion didn’t know. Safu would have been able to tell Nezumi his own innermost thoughts. Shion kept his mouth shut, but now he didn’t look away.

Nezumi caught him looking. “What,” he spat.

“You are a beautiful singer,” Shion said seriously.

Nezumi laughed once, hard and ugly. “Really. That’s where you want to start this. I thought I told you, don’t make it awkward.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” Shion said. “I really loved that song. Did you write it?”

“…Are you serious?” Makeup almost gone now, Nezumi laughed for real now, then shook his head. “No, Shion, I did not write ‘Faithfully’ by Journey, Journey wrote it in the eighties. What the hell kind of music do you listen to?”

“Quiet music, mostly. I liked that song a lot, though. It was quiet when you sang it. Most music from the nineteen-eighties is loud.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Nezumi’s steely eyes zereod in on Shion’s red ones. “You want to talk about anything else?”

Shion tried very hard not to start blushing. “Um. What else? You… you…” He took a breath, watched it fog the air when he let it out, and then maintained eye contact. “I don’t really know how else to put this, but you have wonderful stage presence, and it was wonderful to watch you perform.”

Nezumi was frowning, confusion apparent. “…Are you into men in drag?”

“What! No!” Shion was blushing very hard now. “I just… I like you.”

Nezumi now looked as if he didn’t believe any of this situation was real. “Right. Okay. Are you saying… I have no idea what you’re trying to say here. It can’t be what you’re actually saying, though, because we talked about this. You’re giving too much away.”

“And why do you think that?” Shion was sitting up too, even though he was very cold outside the sleeping bag. It meant he was on a level with Nezumi, and maybe now he could stop feeling like a child. “I’m just telling you the truth. I’m not ashamed of it. You’re a, a magnificent singer, and you’re fantastic on the stage. I loved seeing you up there. It was damn well one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and I’m not ashamed of thinking that.”

“What are you ashamed of then?”

Shion blinked, deflating. “Um. Unemployment. Being a burden. Not knowing everything you know. Being inferior.”

“Oh. Good.”

Shion could feel himself getting angry, a quiet bubbling in the pit of his stomach. “What? What’s good about—”

“You’re human after all.”

Shion twitched away. “That’s a weird thing to say.” He remembered classmates laughing when he recited textbook answers from memory, the memorial service for everyone who’d died in the epidemic, the stares of people who’d lost friends and lovers, girls squealing in terror when they saw the way he looked now, his mother’s brown eyes widening when his new red ones met hers—

“You don’t talk like you’re human. You’re way too up-front with things. And that’s the first time I hear you curse, and all I get is a ‘damn well’? You can’t do better than that?” Nezumi was shaking his head and laying down on his back, readjusting the blanket so it lay across both of them again. His smile was barely there. “You’re too strange, Shion. I’m glad you have fears like the rest of us. Lie down, you’ll freeze.”

Shion lay shoulder-to-shoulder with Nezumi for half an hour, until Nezumi’s even breathing hitched, the man rolled onto his stomach, and his left hand slid over Shion until it reached Shion’s right hand. It stayed there for a moment, then clenched for a second around Shion’s fingers. Gently, Shion squeezed the hand back. He didn’t know if Nezumi was awake or asleep. It didn’t really matter to him. He drifted off after that, surfacing a few times when Nezumi snored or when a rat found their collective warmth and settled close to their bodies. The storm raged, but Shion slept.


	11. Chapter 11

“Hey.”

Shion snorted, jerked, and woke up. “Hmah? Whu?”

“I asked you a question. You know the word, right?” Nezumi’s eyes were narrowed, maybe four inches from Shion’s face. He was propped on one elbow, his other hand still trapped in Shion’s grasp. 

Shion tried to sit up, but found that his right arm refused to cooperate. He managed to detangle his fingers and Nezumi’s in a haze, then sat up and rubbed his eyes. When he took his hands away, Nezumi was still glaring at him, massaging the life into his left hand.

“What was the question again? I’m sorry,” Shion said.

Nezumi sighed. “Now that you know about Eve, are you gonna start calling me a fag?”

Shion immediately frowned. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Because I wear a dress and sing sometimes.”

“That doesn’t mean anything about your, your sexuality though.”

“Are you fucking serious.”

Shion looked around the cab of the car. “Did the storm stop? Why is it warm in here?”

“Are you like, the politically correct fairy or something?”

“No. Did you use the CB radio at all to let Inukashi know where we are? What time is it, anyway?”

“Once again, I have got to question whether you’re real or not.” 

Shion refocused on Nezumi, who was looking angry in a vague, directionless way. “I don’t know what I’d be if I wasn’t real,” was all Shion could think to say.

Nezumi propped his head on his hand and smirked at Shion. “Then where the hell do you get your ideas about what’s normal and what isn’t?”

“Um.” Shion thought for a moment. “A girl I used to date was a psychology major. Her grandmother knitted her clothes and she was the only friend I had in… in my life, really. She lived down the road from me, we went to college together, and she works as a dominatrix in San Francisco now. I almost died in college when I caught that weird disease. I was the only one who survived it and everyone stayed away from me after that. My mom apparently rented my room out to a pimp. I think I’m in love with you. I consider all these things something close to normal. For me, anyway.”

“What was that last one?”

“Can you answer any of the questions I asked you before, about us surviving that storm and getting back home?” Shion was starting to blush and his stomach was squirming, but he kept his voice even. He hadn’t said anything wrong.

Nezumi stood up. Shion stared up at him, trying not to look defensive. Nezumi leaned down suddenly and rested his fingertips on Shion’s chin, as if to make sure he didn’t move. Shion didn’t think he could have moved if he tried. He was barely breathing. Nezumi’s finger vanished from his chin, then reappeared on the scar on Shion’s cheek. Those grey eyes were suddenly looking much softer. 

“I don’t know about love, but we can be trucking buddies,” Nezumi said softly. “Maybe.” Then Nezumi stood up and jumped in the front seat. He crammed the keys in and pumped a fist in triumph as the engine turned over and started on the first try. “Yes! Let’s go. Buckle up.”

“Right,” Shion said, smiling. He felt a rat run over his hand, felt the truck purring under him, felt that strange warmth that came into his chest whenever he was around Nezumi and it was just the two of them. “Let’s go!”


End file.
